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Ethiopia Saluting the Colors.

Part of the cluster BATHED IN WAR'S PERFUME.


(A Reminiscence of 1864.)


WHO are you, dusky woman, so ancient, hardly human, With your woolly-white and turban'd head, and bare  
 bony feet?
Why, rising by the roadside here, do you the colors  


('Tis while our army lines Carolina's sand and pines, Forth from thy hovel door, thou, Ethiopia, com'st to me, As, under doughty Sherman, I march toward the sea.)


Me, master, years a hundred, since from my parents sun- 
A little child, they caught me as the savage beast is caught; Then hither me, across the sea, the cruel slaver brought.
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No further does she say, but lingering all the day, Her high-borne turban'd head she wags, and rolls her  
 darkling eye,
And curtseys to the regiments, the guidons moving by.


What is it, fateful woman—so blear, hardly human? Why wag your head, with turban bound—yellow, red  
 and green?
Are the things so strange and marvelous, you see or  
 have seen?

Part of the cluster BATHED IN WAR'S PERFUME.

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